JAMES CRAVEN
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Above: James Craven, a delightfully devious serial villain. (Photo courtesy of Albert Leining).

My special thanks to Albert Leining, whose information on his uncle, James Craven, allowed me to clear up some riddles that have remained insoluble for a long time.

Tall, thin, and refined, but with a hint of sneakiness in his facial make-up, James Craven was eminently qualified for playing serial brains heavies. He was handsome and dignified enough to convince the other characters that he was on the good guys' side, and cruel and shady-looking enough to let the audience know what he was really up to. However, if one were to contrast the two halves of his serial career, one would be tempted to think there were two different actors by the name of James Craven, so strongly did those two halves contrast. In Craven's three major serial roles at Columbia, he played (probably at the behest of director James Horne) wild-eyed, ranting villains in the old melodrama style, berating henchmen violently and getting more harried and flustered as the hero foiled each of his plans. In two of his three major serial roles at Republic, however, Craven portrayed very crafty, subtle heavies, the complete opposite of his hyperventilating Columbia characters. I personally enjoy his suave persona best, but his wacked-out villains could be very amusing too. Craven was really a very talented actor, and his performances, whether over-the-top or well-modulated, were always a lot of fun to watch.

Thanks to Mr. Leining, I now know that James Craven was born James Meggs in Canada, which explains his slight accent that I (and a few others) have mistaken for an English accent. Since Craven first met his future wife, Mr. Leining’s aunt, in New York, I would hazard a guess that James performed as a Broadway actor before coming to Hollywood. In any case, his first cliffhanger and his first film was made in 1940--Columbia's THE GREEN ARCHER, a remake of a silent serial by the same name and "adapted" from the book by Edgar Wallace. It bore little resemblance to the novel, and really only borrowed the character names. A prime example of this was Craven's characterization of Abel Bellamy, the head villain, which differed entirely from the Bellamy of the book. Wallace's Bellamy was a brutal, meglomaniacal tycoon, while Craven's was a sophisticated, suave socialite. Only suave at intervals, that is, as he was subject to many fits of rage at the perpetual blundering of his henchmen and the perpetual intereference of hero Spike Holland (Victor Jory) and the mysterious Green Archer in his plans. Both men were out to expose Craven's use of Bellamy Castle as the headquarters for a gang of jewel thieves. Directed by James W. Horne, the serial had more comedy than suspense, and Craven fell in with the prevailing humorous mode with his frantic, frequently hilarious portrayal of Abel Bellamy.

Above: James Craven (seated) goes over his plans with a phony Green Archer (Jack Ingram) and Robert Fiske in THE GREEN ARCHER (Columbia, 1940).

James's next two serials were also Horne endeavors, in the same mold as THE GREEN ARCHER. WHITE EAGLE (Columbia, 1941), saw Craven as Dandy Darnell, a crafty Western badman who was after heroine Dorothy Fay's Pony Express franchise. White Eagle (Buck Jones) a Pony Express rider raised by the Indians, interferes when Craven begins pinning his raids on Jones' adopted tribe. Craven again essayed a completely insane characterization, chewing out his henchmen with hysterical anger.

Above: James Craven (second from left) plots with three masked henchmen in this lobby card for WHITE EAGLE (Columbia, 1941). I think the masked man on the far left is Al Ferguson. Buck Jones is in the bottom right-hand corner image, and Roy Barcroft is on the left-hand side.

Craven's third and last serial for Horne was CAPTAIN MIDNIGHT (Columbia, 1942), based on the popular radio show. This last is probably the most controversial of Craven's three "wacky" serials, due to the fans of the radio show who were irritated at the humorous treatment of their hero, Captain Midnight (Dave O'Brien), and his arch-enemy, the spy Ivan Shark (played by Craven). In the serial, Shark was out to steal a special range finder developed by scientist Bryant Washburn but was repeatedly thwarted by Midnight. James once again was a hollering, easily irritated bad guy; perhaps his hilarious lunacy reaches its peak in the scene where the kidnapped Washburn is explaining a secret formula to him, and Craven begins shouting "This is just a little bit complicated!" as Washburn gets more and more technical.

Above: Dave O'Brien (wearing the pilot outfit) and James Craven (wearing hat and trenchcoat) grapple in this lobby card for CAPTAIN MIDNIGHT (Columbia, 1942). Dorothy Short, heroine of the serial, is shown in the upper right hand corner.

In late 1942, Craven made his only appearance at Universal Pictures in THE ADVENTURES OF SMILIN' JACK. He played Commissioner Hardy, an American military officer who periodically received the reports of hero Jack Martin (Tom Brown), an aviator who was battling German and Japanese terrorists. Craven's character never left his office, but he played an important part in the serial's construction; instead of the usual recap card or voice-over narration to bring audiences up to date on last week's happenings, SMILIN' JACK always featured a pair of characters discussing the events of the last chapter, and James filled this place for Chapters 5-7.

Craven's first Republic serial came in 1945--THE PURPLE MONSTER STRIKES. James at least started out as a good guy in this one; he was a distinguished scientist named Cyrus Layton who witnessed the landing of a Martian spaceship. The spaceship pilot, the Purple Monster (Roy Barcroft) attempted to enlist Layton's help in preparing an invasion of the earth; when Craven refused, Barcroft killed him, and, by means of a special Martian gas, entered his body and used it to cover up his activities on earth. Craven assumed an absent-minded, idealistic air in his brief part as the ill-fated Layton, and, as the Purple Monster's alter ego (in effect, a living disguise) displayed for the first time the sly evil and craftiness that would become his hallmark at Republic.

Above: The Purple Monster (Roy Barcroft, left) prepares to assume the body of Cyrus Layton (James Craven) in this picture from THE PURPLE MONSTER STRIKES (Republic, 1945).

Craven's next serial again started him out as a good guy--apparently, that is. FEDERAL AGENTS VS. UNDERWORLD INC (Republic, 1948), one of the most brilliantly and cleverly plotted of all Republic's serials, featured many surprises, not the least of these concerning Craven's character, an archeologist named James Clayton. Kidnapped in the first chapter by fanatical Abhistanian criminal Nila (Carol Forman) when he stumbled onto the Golden Hands of Kurigal, keys to a fabulous treasure, Craven appeared to be a typical "pawn" as hero Kirk Alyn tried to rescue him and locate the Hands. However (SPOILERS! SPOILERS! SPOILERS!) in Chapter Ten, Craven was revealed to be the brain behind Nila; he had faked his kidnapping in order to conceal his criminal activities. Although James only appeared in the first chapter and the last three, he nearly stole the serial from Carol Forman and her henchman Roy Barcroft (no small accomplishment!) as he attempted to doublecross them and outwit Alyn at the same time (he didn't succeed, though).

James made a brief return to Columbia the same year, in BATMAN AND ROBIN, but he had only one or two lines as a research scientist named Norwood. Also in 1949, he played his only bona fide good guy in a serial: Professor Millard in KING OF THE ROCKETMEN at Republic. The serial featured the debut of Republic's rocket suit-wearing hero who would be known by several names; in this serial, he was called Rocketman and played by usual villain Tristram Coffin. Both Coffin and Craven were members of Science Associates Inc., a research group; when one of the group turns to crime under the alias of Dr. Vulcan and begins killing off the others in his quest for power, Craven fakes his death and secretly cooperates with Coffin, giving him the rocket suit to combat Dr. Vulcan. Before Craven's heroic demise in Chapter Seven, he provided Rocket Man with invaluable aid and even donned the rocket suit to rescue Coffin when his secret identity was threatened. It may have been queer casting, but Craven carried off his part well and made the casting completely believable.

Above, from left to right: James Craven, Lyle Talbot, Johnny Duncan, Robert Lowery, and Leonard Penn (all standing) and Emmett Vogan and William Fawcett (both seated) discuss the theft of the remote control machine in BATMAN AND ROBIN (Columbia, 1949).

Above: House Peters Jr., Mae Clarke (both seated) and James Craven (hatless, wearing white coat) are captured by thugs Don Haggerty (holding the gun on Craven), Tom Steele (behind Clarke) and David Sharpe in KING OF THE ROCKETMEN (Republic, 1949).

Though James had shown in KING OF THE ROCKETMEN how well he could play a good guy, he still finished out his cliffhanger career in his more traditional bad guy niche. FLYING DISC MAN FROM MARS (Republic, 1951), dealt with an invasion from Mars, as THE PURPLE MONSTER STRIKES had done. This time, Mota (Gregory Gay) was the vanguard of the invasion, and, once again, Craven (as an aircraft manufacturer named Bryant) was the first to welcome the extra-terrestrial to earth. However, Craven, instead of defying the invader as he had done in PURPLE MONSTER, made an alliance with him and agreed to help him in his conquest of earth. Evidently James had tired of playing it straight by this time, for his Bryant was only a slightly more subdued version of Ivan Shark or Abel Bellamy. Instead of trying to slyly convince hero Walter Reed that he was on his side, Craven blustered loudly whenever Reed accused him of wrongdoing, and got into similar shouting matches with Gay. Craven’s comedy take on the character was completely unexpected and gave an added twist to this fine late Republic.

Above: James Craven (left) and Gregory Gay in FLYING DISC MAN FROM MARS (Republic, 1950).

James kept working in movies for about five years after FLYING DISC MAN, appearing on TV shows such as THE LONE RANGER, THE GENE AUTRY SHOW, WILD BILL HICOCK, THE ADVENTURES OF SUPERMAN, and STORIES OF THE CENTURY (pictured above) as well as popping up in big-screen films. His last appearance seems to have been as an oscillator tester in the Donald O'Connor comedy FRANCIS IN THE NAVY in 1955. It seems to have been around this same time that he married and moved to Pacific Palisades, California, and then to Connecticut, leaving the motion picture business behind him.

Above: James Craven (second from left) in an atypically heroic role: Marshal Wyatt Earp in an episode of Republic's Western TV show STORIES OF THE CENTURY. Kim Spalding as Doc Holliday is second from right.

Albert Leining remembers his uncle being alive as late as the 1970s; it seems James moved back to Canada when his health began to fail. Unfortunately, I have no definite date of his death. However, thanks to Mr. Leining, I now have some concrete information on Mr. Craven, who certainly deserves a full biography. Sometimes he was crazy, sometimes he was cool, but James Craven was always worth watching.

Above, from left to right: Walter Reed, an unidentified player, and James Craven in FLYING DISC MAN FROM MARS (Republic, 1950).

Above: A rare family photo (courtesy of Albert Leining) of James Craven (far right) with his wife Blanche (second from right) and his in-laws Dr. and Mrs. Albert Leining. Date unknown, but judging by Mr. Craven’s appearance, the picture was taken sometime after his retirement from films.

Above: Another family photo (courtesy once again of Albert Leining) of James Craven, with an ear-to-ear grin that you’d never be able to see in one of his on-screen roles. This one appears to predate the preceding photograph.